


A Little Birdie

by upperplanespatron



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Choices, Death, Destroy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Loss of Parent(s), Major Character Injury, Matter of Life and Death, Medical, Mentions of Cancer, Near Death, Off-screen Relationship(s), Past Character Death, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 05:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18243653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upperplanespatron/pseuds/upperplanespatron
Summary: Commander Shepard fades in and out of consciousness, finally finding herself somewhere warm and tropical... But what will it take for her to leave paradise behind?(Post-destroy ending Female Shepard. Background Shepard/Garrus.)





	A Little Birdie

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's replaying Mass Effect :')
> 
> This is probably the most self-indulgent and cheesy thing I've written in a while. Also, this was all stream of consciousness writing, so my apologies for any weird plot pacing or characterizations... I wrote this in a single one hour sitting with zero prior planning.
> 
> I also did a brief edit, but only for formatting and spelling. I made sure not to touch any of the content. It was a fun exercise! It really helps with writing burn-out, I find.

Lights strobe above flickering eyelids, a kaleidoscope of incandescent bulbs and blazing red alerts. Too bright – it hurts, a deep pain pulsating into the sockets of the eyes. No, not just the eyes. Everything. The body aches all over, deeply and painfully and endlessly – overpowering agony, like a dying star. Skin hot and aching and burning. Lungs are needles, air is acid. Breathing in, out, then pain. The world tastes like a cocktail of blood and ash.

_I shouldn’t be here._

“…losing her! Get the medica-”

* * *

_Shepard had never actually been to a real beach._

_She had seen the ocean, seen the white sand and the line where the sky and the ocean blended into one. But she was always on duty – the sky filled with smoke, the sand drenched with the hot blood of comrades._

_No, she had never been to a real beach. A beach as somewhere safe, somewhere to relax and simply enjoy the sensation of existing. Somewhere warm and tropical, with soft breezes and the smell of salt water hanging thick in the air instead of the smell of death._

_This was her first real beach._

_Shepard stood still, toes buried deep in warm sand. She breathed, in, out. And for just a moment, she was at peace._

_Vegetation rustled behind her, and for once in what felt like thousands of years the woman did not jump at the sound. She reached for no gun, prepped no biotic barrier. She simply stood as a wave lapped over her ankles before receding back into the deep blue dark._

_“You’re early, Sweet Pea.”_

_The voice was familiar. Deep and warm, soft and kind. A hug made of sound. The commander hadn’t heard it in years, not outside of old recordings of now-faded childhood memories. But she remembered._

_Shepard turned and met a pair of eyes that looked very much like her own._

_“Papa?”_

* * *

A cacophony of strange voices. Then, a desire to go back - back to the ocean, back to the soft familiar voice and warm air. But the cruel new voices call out, forcing the body into reality with their army of needles and scalpels and medigel.

“…armor is stuck to her skin.”

“I think she’s waking up.”

“We should inform the Captain.”

“We’ll probably have to amputate…”

“Seriously, I think she’s waking up.”

“Take her into the room in the very back.”

“Have these been disinfected?”

“She’s waking up! Do we have anesthesia?”

The pain is back – a most unwelcome visitor. Muscles twitch from memories of battles won with fists and adrenaline. The body convulses, flopping off a gurney and falling to the floor with all the grace of a dying fish gasping for air.

“Shit! Where’s that anesthesia?”

Footsteps echo. Something cups the mouth and then only darkness remains.

* * *

_Shepard would have worried she would crush him if she wasn’t crying too hard to care. Her father didn’t seem to mind either, though she hugged him so hard the ribs of an average person would have snapped._

_Usually, Commander Shepard never cried. Commander Shepard the Alliance brat, Commander Shepard the sole survivor, Commander Shepard the savior of the galaxy – that person never cried. But now, she was not that person. She was simply Jane, only Sweet Pea, just the twelve-year-old girl who had cried over a hospital bed as her father lost his fight to eezo-exposure-related cancer. The same eezo exposure that had, years later, caused her own body to glow blue with power._

_The man rubbed his hand in a soothing circular motion across his daughter’s back. “You’ve been through a lot, huh, Sweet Pea?”_

_“That might be a bit of an understatement, papa.”_

_The two of them released their embrace, but the woman kept a viper-like grip on her father’s hand – ever-calloused from years and years of working with heavy machinery. Jane kept her eyes trained on him. She didn’t want him to disappear if she looked away. Her father smiled and his eyes crinkled. A calloused hand reached up and wiped away a stray tear. “I’m so proud of you, Jane.”_

_“Thank you, papa. I’ve missed you. Maman has missed you. It’s been hard-”_

_“I know,” he interrupted, not unkindly. “I’ve missed you too, missed you both... But I can’t keep you here.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_The man chuckled softly in mild surprise. “Do you not know where you are, Sweet Pea?”_

_“No, I-”_

* * *

“We got the message through to the Captain, she is going to come as quickly as she can. They have the same blood type.”

The body is strapped to the table now. The pain remains.

* * *

_Her father had moved when she wasn’t looking, away from her grasp. He gazed over the waves, his back turned away from her. “You’ve made so many friends. They can’t stop talking about you, you know.”_

_“Who’s been talking about me?”_

_There was a pause. The elder Shepard turned around, his face filled with bittersweet love. “Sweet Pea, where do you think we are right now?”_

_“A beach.”_

_“Yes. Where is the beach? How did you get here?”_

_Jane paused. She didn’t have an answer._

_“What is the last thing you remember?”_

_The woman knitted her eyebrows together and strained her memory. The more she tried to remember, the more she felt… Like a dull pain in the eyes, like the far-away cut of a sharp edge against one’s own flesh. The last thing she remembered… it was…. “The explosion. At the Citadel. The Reapers were killing… everything. I decided to destroy… I destroyed…”_

_“Indeed.”_

_A moment passed, thick with the implication._

_“Did I… Papa, did I die?”_

_The man simply shrugged._

_Desperation filled her. “What happened?” Jane crossed the distance between them in a blink of an eye. “Are the Reapers gone? Did it work?”_

_Her father smiled mischievously. “You’ll have to go back to find out.”_

_“Papa, please-”_

_“_ _You were always so head-strong, even as a little girl. Do you remember that one time you tried to sneak out of the house to see the re-runs of Star Trek with your friends?"_

_“I remember. I was ten,” Shepard lashed, much more sharply than she had intended. She had been caught very easily, not yet realizing that adults stayed up much later than she did... which resulted in her walking right into the living room where her parents were busy paying bills._

_“And I’m sure you’d do it as an adult. You’d probably be successful now, though.”_

_“What happened to the Reapers, papa?”_

_“Sweet Pea, you’ll have to see for yourself.”_

* * *

“Captain!”

Then, a familiar voice. Deep and warm, soft and kind. “How is she?”

“Critical condition. She’s losing too much blood.”

* * *

_“What if I don’t want to go back?”_

_“Then you don’t have to. But you should,” he pointed at her. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.”_

_Shepard crossed her arms defiantly. “And how do you know that?”_

_The man laughed again. Soft chuckles, crinkled eyes. “A little birdie told me,” he half-sung, nonchalant as ever._

* * *

A sharp, unpleasant noise.

_Beep… Beep… Beep…. Beeeeeeeeee……._

“She’s flatlining!”

* * *

_“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you!” The elder Shepard clapped his hands together and smiled ear-to-ear. “I met Vatilia. A lovely woman, really.”_

_“Vatilia?”_

_“Yes! Vatilia Vakarian._   _Garrus' mother._ ”

* * *

Weight on the chest.

Over and over and over and….

_eeeeeep…. Beep…. Beep…. Beep….._

* * *

_“She wanted me to tell you that you both have her blessing.”_

_Jane sputtered. “What?”_

_“Her blessing! For you and Garrus. I shouldn’t ruin the surprise, but he was planning on proposing to you after the war.”_

_“He was planning- Wait. You know about Garrus?”_

_“I do! I approve, by the way, but I know you don’t need me telling you that.”_

_“Is Garrus here?”_

_“No. He’s not here. It’s not his time yet, either.”_

* * *

_Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…_

Lungs like needles, air like acid. In, out, then pain.

* * *

_A wave rolled over Shepard’s feet and around her ankles, but the water was suddenly cold as ice. She shuttered._

_“That means he’s alive?”_

_“I’m probably not supposed to be telling you all this, but yes. Very much alive, and very much worried about you.”_

* * *

_Beep… Beep… Beep…_

* * *

_“How do you know?”_

_Another shrug. “Little birdie.”_

* * *

 

In, out. Pain.

* * *

 

_“Don’t leave him, Sweat Pea. Don’t leave your mother, or your friends. They love you. You have so much more life to live.”_

* * *

 

In, out.

* * *

_She wavered. “I’m tired, Papa.”_

* * *

In, out.

* * *

_“When has that ever stopped you before, Sweat Pea?”_

* * *

In, out.

In, out.

* * *

_“I’m going to miss you, Papa.”_

_“We will meet again one day, Jane. I promise.”_

* * *

In, out.

In, out.

In, out.

* * *

_Salt water against ankles. Bitter cold._

_“People are waiting for you.”_

_Hand met calloused hand and squeezed. Eyes fluttered shut._

_“I love you, Papa,” said the wavering voice of a child._

_“I love you, Sweet Pea. Tell maman I love her, too.” Then, darkness._

* * *

In, out.

In, out.

In, out.

In, out.

Jane’s eyelids flutter open. A bright hospital room welcomes her, with a screen by her bed beeping in pace with her heart.

Next to her sits a woman, hair sheered short and peppered with the first sprouts of white that come with age. She is bedecked in the garb of the Alliance, a shiny nameplate on her lapel announcing it belongs to one Capt. Hannah Shepard.

The Captain’s tired eyes stare glossily and a live vid of the news on the far side of the room. Jane tries to push herself up, pressing her palms against the stiff hospital sheets… And fails. Her left arm catches nothing. Jane looks for a place to set her hand to try again, only to find no hand. No arm, either, just a stub by her shoulder – her left arm is gone.

Attention captured by the rustling, the Captain’s eyes are trained now trained on the Commander. They sparkle with tears she just barely is able to hold back. “Jane?”

“Hi, maman.” The injured voice is barely louder than a whisper.

In a flash, the older woman slams the palm of her hand against a button by the bed. Somewhere, an alarm chirps.

“Oh Sweet Pea,” her mother holds Jane’s remaining hand softly. “You scared the shit out of me! That’s the second time I’ve thought you died.”

Outside the door can be heard the excited yelp of medical staff.

“Maman?”

“Yes?”

The door flies open, doctors and nurses filing into the room to check on their patient. “Papa said he loves you. And that I’m getting married.”

“Papa sai- Wait, you’re engaged?”

“Nope.” Above the bustle of medical staff, Jane stares at the vid of the news. “Not yet.”

 _S.S.V. Normandy SR2 and crew found safe and sound,_ the subtitles proclaim. And on the screen, a picture of a familiar turian stares seriously at something out of frame.

And just for a moment, Shepard swears she can hear the soft laugh of her father…

Deep and warm.

Soft and kind.


End file.
